Oh, we do like to be beside the seaside...

Ahh, Spring is upon us! The daffodils are nodding in the verges, crocuses are peeping bashfully from the lawn, and tiny woodland creatures are scurrying about doing unspeakable things in the hedgerows… I think we ran over a fair few on our way to the George in Bradford a couple of Fridays back, where we proceeded to aurally assault the assembled throng, or as many of them as we could see either side of the place’s central pillar, anyway – there’s an archway either side, through which heads will poke every so often, like meerkats on sentry duty. Apparently the new landlord has plans to remove it to open out the view - hopefully he’ll get a structural engineer to look at it first, as I have visions of one good blow with a sledgehammer bringing the entire pub down like a house of cards…

Last Friday’s venue in Burnham on Sea was a very different kettle of fish – Burnham is rather like Weston Super Mare's little brother, and gets similarly chock full of holidaying Brummies in the summer, but off season it's pretty quiet, apart from the occasional explosion of violence - shortly after we arrived, someone took an involuntary dive through the plate glass window of the supermarket over the road - of course, this may just have been a somewhat misguided attempt at a ramraid, but we put it down to youthful high spirits...
The Old Pier Tavern sounds like a cosy seafront pub, but in fact turned out to be a vast great Victorian pile that’s been heavily modified for live music; nice big stage, lighting rig, dancefloor, decent PA, video screens, the works. It’s run by the very entertaining Jamei Roberts, ex-drummer for Mungo Jerry, and a splendid gig it was too – looking forward to coming back.

Miners Arms, Whitecroft

A new venue for us, and initial impressions aren't good - a nice little gastropub in the Forest of Dean, yes, but more used to the odd mellow jazz quartet than a bunch of hairy reprobates like us, methinks (Oh, and we're billed as 'Billy in the Long Grass', which is a new one...). The worried looks as we lug the drumkit in rapidly escalate to full red-alert horror as we gradually fill the pub up with hulking amps, and the landlord starts to worry about volume before we've even plugged anything in... even the stuffed stag's head over the fireplace wears an expression of stunned alarm (although this isn't that surprising, as the last thing to pass through it's head apart from a large calibre metal-jacketed projectile was probably something along the lines of "What the ...?").
Resigned to it being 'one of those gigs,' we get cracking, and wonder of wonders, we go down a storm - best pub gig we've had in ages, and the much happier-looking landlord is booking us back after only the first set, which is always a plus - as is free beer, cheers!

One of the things I like about playing in Wales and the borders is that people are generally much more interested and appreciative of something a bit different, musically - everyone seems to be a musician too, which I guess helps - looking forward to coming back, although that may freak out the excitable young lady who thought I was Rasputin. Can't see it myself, though I can see why she might have thought I was the guitarist from Onslaught - see here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1prUCv3Tm6s

The Prom

Nicely timed, this gig on Wednesday, sandwiched neatly as it was between two snowstorms which could have left half the band stranded in Broughton Gifford - a scenario that could quickly degenerate into mass cannibalism and general savagery.
What with the long break over Christmas and all, it's been such a long time since our last gig we were a bit concerned about how much we'd remember, but of course we needn't have worried - we remembered at least half of the set. Good to see some familiar faces come in from the cold again, as well as some much appreciated new ones, even if they were only drawn in by the sight of Mick's Cardiacs T-shirt through the window!

Crusty Jugglers...

Not much to report on the gigging front over the traditionally dead fortnight at the year's end, apart from the worrying news that Chris is writing a Christmas song! With any luck he'll have forgotten all about it by this time next year, but just in case: I am NOT going to dye my beard white and wear a silly hat. Again.
Another New Year's Eve spent trying out inadvisable combinations of drinks in front of Jools Holland and his infernal boogie-woogie piano, whilst thinking about how I'd like to slam his head in it repeatedly...
Great to see Gavin over from France again though - 8 years is too long, we need to get better at staying in touch! He was a big hit with his nephews, too - it's something of an unfair advantage for an uncle to be so good at magic & juggling - he went back to France laden with English, er... delicacies to tempt the French palate, and keen observers will notice evidence that seasonal excesses have taken their toll on his waistline. Clearly it runs in the family, and there's therefore no point in trying to fight it.

Ho Ho Ho!

No, it's not actually Santa giving a cheery greeting from his grotto, but Chris 'enjoying' a half-time fag outside the George, Bradford on Avon last Saturday. As you can tell, he's not overly keen on the new smoking restrictions... thanks to Gretchen for the pic - I think you were wise not to sit on his knee, though.

Inside was cosy & warm, and it was good to see a lot of familiar faces who braved the filthy weather, and also to meet Ruth, who knows more about the band than we do, including the words to all the songs, which may well come in handy if Chris keeps forgetting them faster than he writes them. A cracking gig, despite a migraine, a bad back & two different strains of flu (and that's just between the 5 of us in the band).

Back to Broughton Gifford for late night beers & JDs, while the rain hammered down unnoticed outside - until the next morning, when I splashed blearily up the path to my car, slithered in & headed out towards Atworth, with a bow wave in front of me & weird glugging noises from the exhaust... oh dear. Took quite while to find a navigable passage out, and I half expected to see Mick's narrowboat overtaking me.

Here's another of Gretchen's pics of the gig - the only one I could find where we don't look like a bunch of old winos. OK, maybe that's a stretch.

The Plough, Manston

And so once more to the Plough in our favourite corner of Dorset, albeit a very difficult to find corner, at least when you take the admittedly rather perverse route I took. The usual mixture of local musos and farmers await, and as ever it's a good 'un. Unlike the place last week, the locals do know how to call for more, even if they sound like a cow in calf when they do it (according to Chris anyway, and he should know - he can do things with a calving rope that would make your eyes water). All credit to them, as their numbers were much reduced by a virulent plague that had most of the village in bed with a hot waterbottle & a lemsip, apparently.

Of course that could just be what they told us, in which case full marks for tact! We used to play at a pub in Bristol many years ago where the guv'nor had a knack for puncturing any bubble of optimism (or indeed will to live) we might have brought with us by dolefully announcing: "Course, there won't be many in tonight... they all came out for the band we had laaast night - fantastic, they were..."

Bayshill Tavern, Cheltenham

After the roaring success of our last gig at Mr Wolfs, this one was bound to be quieter, especially as we're minus one tonight, Mick having a prior commitment.
Always a rather sedate venue anyway (feels more like playing a piano recital in your auntie's sitting room than a pub gig) - I've never seen anyone actually get out of their chair....
Also there's something up with the wiring, so every time I plug in my bass amp it starts seething & hissing like a basket of cobras. Ho hum. Still, there was a bigger crowd than usual and they obligingly stick around... pity no-one asks for any more until we've more or less cleared the gear away - you haven't worked out how this encore thing works, have you people?